


The Red Carpet Series

by lennongirl



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:32:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lennongirl/pseuds/lennongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three movies, five premieres. Enough time to grow up. </p><p>Part 1: Reflections amidst the glitter of Cannes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. FotR

**Author's Note:**

> Written in September/October 2004.

_May 14th 2001, Cannes, France_

You’re excited and bouncy. You look around and there are people, all these famous people, and you’re no longer a drooling admirer. Well, you still are, but you’re more: you’re part of the scene now. You’ve posed with Andie McDowell, not in the way Viggo did in this one movie, but hey. And you talked to Jackie Chan, how cool is that? You mingle, you blend in. Okay, not really. You still stand out, you always will. Because you’re still fucking excited and bouncy and just can’t help but smile. You’re smiling so much, you’re almost radiating.

Sometimes, you can’t bring yourself to believe what’s happening around you. And it’s days like these, when you’re exposing yourself to the public, that show you what has happened since you left your home for New Zealand. It’s days like these that show you how much has changed in the last year and a half.

You remember how everything began, you made yourself promise you’ll never forget. You remember the first few days, remember how amazed you were at how easy it was to get close with everybody. You weren’t the youngest of the main cast. However, you were the most inexperienced one, but your new found friends never made you feel like a rookie. You’d been intimidated at first, hearing names like Ian McKellen and Sean Bean, but these men became your friends and made you forget any doubts very fast. They welcomed and accepted you as one of them and you admired them even more. They guided and mentored you without making you feel you needed any help at all and thanks to their subtle guidance, you grew into your role faster than you’d ever dreamt possible. You silently thanked your fellow actors each and every day for the way they treated you, and made you feel equal to them from day one. You know that you’ll never forget this; should this whole acting thing work out the way you hope it will, you’re sure that when you’re the older more experienced actor, you’ll help and guide the new, nervous and young actors who work with you.

And now you’re here, it’s your very first premiere, and you’re part of the cast. You’re some kind of star now. You still can’t believe it when journalists call out your name to get your picture taken. You turn and look right into a camera and you smile, which you would do anyway, and a flash goes off and no, it wasn’t that you accidentally sneaked into a frame, it was you they wanted to photograph in the first place. You find it hard to swallow the attention you get and you’re trying to make your mind up whether you really like it or not. 

You know you’ll be watched even more closely once the films come out; you have no real clue what exactly is going to happen then. You’re part of the Fellowship, yes, but you’re only the elf, you don’t belong to the sworn quartet of Hobbits. You’re the one who looks most different in costume than out of it, and you wonder if anyone will ever recognize you at all. You wonder if people will ask you if you’re the one who played the elf. You wonder if they’ll make fun of your name, Orlando. You secretly hope you won’t get lost as the delicate figure standing between men such as Viggo and Sean. You want people to recognize you, a few people at least. You’re sure having some fans could be encouraging and flattering, and you’re a young man, after all, one who won’t refuse a compliment on his acting skills – or on his looks. You’re working hard to maintain both, but you would never admit that in public. It might make you sound selfish or conceited, but that’s not what you are. Until now, people praised you for the way you care about others first and foremost. You always appreciated that. It’s just that you’re ready to hear something else. You’ve heard Elijah talking about screaming girls, you’ve read a letter or two of the fan mail Sean got, including marriage proposals, and you’re just curious to find out what it must be like to have someone else fancy you just because you wear a blonde wig and shoot some arrows. You can’t really imagine it, but Cannes is giving you a very first impression of what could be possible. And you’re so fucking excited about it all.

It’s not only work and the work related future that feeds your never ending optimism. There’s another reason you’re wearing a goofy smile almost 24/7, a reason you’d never have thought possible, a reason that took you by surprise.

You were looking for a lot when you went to New Zealand: new friends, new work, new experiences. However, you were never looking for love. But it found you nevertheless.

You had no idea whatsoever who Viggo was when he arrived. All you knew was that he was the person who was to replace Stuart and you tried to dislike him for that. You thought you owed Stuart: being a good friend, you couldn’t possibly like Viggo. But it didn’t really work out that way. Viggo was friendly, calm and always helpful. Everybody instantly liked him and let you know about it. And you knew you’d like him, too, you knew the two of you could be very good friends. But you had to be loyal to Stuart, didn’t you? So you tried to avoid Viggo as best as you could, but it only increased your inner conflicts. 

Work was exhausting. It was not only physically challenging but there was so much to learn - a whole new language, for instance. Nobody ever told you you were doing a bad job, but you wanted to keep on satisfying everybody, you wanted to be proud of yourself, and you didn’t want anyone give any reason to doubt you. You had the feeling you had to work extra hard, simply because you were the newbie, after all, although nobody ever made you feel like one. You kept a lot for yourself these days, being happy and bouncy to the outside as usual, calming down and relaxing as much as possible as soon as you were alone. 

You found that Viggo’s voice helped you to calm down. When you sat in the make up trailer after a long day, you hoped for him just to start talking. And often he would, he would just tell you about how strange the air had smelled last night, like a summer thunderstorm but not really; maybe he’d have some soft conversation with Sean, or he’d flirt with his make up artist, telling her how inspiring she was. Whatever Viggo rambled about, you would just sit and listen, trying to pretend not to. You’d never talk yourself until asked a question by one of the others. This way, you were both fulfilling your duties as a good friend of Stuart’s and not interacting with Viggo; at the same time, you could listen to Viggo’s voice soothing your nerves. You had no real idea why Viggo had this effect on you, but you weren’t keen on dwelling about it, either.

Viggo, however, caught you one day, about four weeks after he’d arrived. He waited for everyone else to leave the trailer, waited until he was alone with you and asked you, right up front, what kind of problem you had with him, why you were avoiding him. You were shocked and confused and weren’t sure what to say. All of a sudden, the whole Stuart friendship-thing seemed completely ridiculous. You knew you weren’t the only one who’d been friends with Stuart, you knew everyone else had bonded with Viggo already, you knew that everyone else had moved on. You felt silly and childish and didn’t know what to tell Viggo.

You will never forget what happened next and whenever you’re feeling lonely these days, you just replay that following scene in your head; you have it stored away as a mini movie of how everything begun.

You were both standing, your back turned to the wall and Viggo in front of you. He came closer and closer and asked you again, asked you what was wrong with you, if it was him, if he’d done something wrong. You just shrugged and shook your head; you couldn’t tell him about your stupid reasons for ignoring him. And all of a sudden, you just knew you’d never ignore him again. 

Viggo had never been so close to you before, you were almost touching him and for the first time, you allowed yourself to see, feel, hear and smell. You allowed yourself to recognize him. 

He eyed you suspiciously, questioningly, and you shut your eyes for a few seconds, trying to concentrate, to listen to your senses. You felt your breathing get heavy, you heard his voice again, deep and soft and so close, you smelled him, inhaled his scent. After having neglected Viggo for so long, he was filling all your senses at once. You got hard and tried to flee, but you couldn’t - you were caught. And when Viggo said he knew why you had been avoiding him, when he told you that he had a pretty good idea about what this was all about, you wondered if you were the one who’d been wrong all along.

Viggo kissed you then and you were shocked at how eagerly you responded to his kiss. Your lips parted as if on cue, you sighed when Viggo’s tongue traced the outline of your mouth. Your left hand flew to his ass and drew him closer. Your sighing changed to moaning when you felt he was hard, too. However, your own moaning plus the fact that some other man was rubbing his erection against your thigh woke you up from your temporary dizziness. You struggled and Viggo let you go. You looked at him, shook your head again, mumbled some apology and fled.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, as your brain would not stop pondering the kiss. It was as if you’d been waiting for it, as if you’d been craving it, and you had no idea when the fuck any of these wants and needs had started to take hold of you. You’d always fancied women, hadn’t you? But had you really? You weren’t so sure anymore. You finally came to the conclusion that you didn’t give a fuck as long as Viggo would kiss you again, as soon as possible. And that’s when you got some sleep, right after you’d jerked off to the image of Viggo fucking your mouth with his tongue. 

Work was a bit weird the next few days, at least for you. Viggo was acting as if nothing had happened at all and since you hadn’t been all over him anyway, nobody noticed. You were thankful towards Viggo for not giving you a hard time, although of course he’d been the one who’d initiated the kiss. Viggo was polite and friendly as usual, even so, it took you some days until you finally got a chance to talk to him in private. You invited him over to your place and he said he’d come.

It was Wednesday evening, a warm night and Viggo arrived ten minutes late. You remember you’d watched some corny movie on television to get your mind off things. You remember you checked your watch every two minutes. You remember you bit your nails and smoked way too many cigarettes.

You remember you opened the door for Viggo. He was about to say something and you had planned to say something, too. But his smell was there again, so close, and his voice and everything, and you almost flew into his arms, just like a character in this corny movie you just saw. You attacked Viggo right there on the doorstep. He handled the situation very well, and somehow you both made it to the sofa, a mass of intertwined limbs stumbling through your flat. You landed on the sofa, Viggo on top of you, and when you felt his hard-on this time, it didn’t freak you out anymore. You even reached for it, massaged Viggo through his trousers, and when you heard him moan because you touched him this way, you asked yourself what drug you’d been on the last few weeks for not recognizing the possibilities right before you.

You spent the next few hours exploring each other. Viggo brought you off twice, first with his hands, then with his mouth, and it felt better than any sex you’d ever had so far. You wondered if that was the real reason you never were the womaniser you could’ve been, god knows there’d been plenty of chances. You returned the favour once, you jerked Viggo off like you would’ve done it to yourself, and he seemed to enjoy it. He moaned and groaned and panted and you found that more arousing than you’d ever thought possible. You watched, completely mesmerized, as he came hard against your belly, felt his hot come hitting your skin for the very first time, almost covering your sun tattoo completely. You felt the sensations wash over you all at once, the sight, the smell, the sex, and your jaw dropped in amazement. And then you started laughing, just like that, you never knew where it came from. Viggo looked at you, smirked, and joined you.

You didn’t have sex that very first night, not because you didn’t want to, it just didn’t happen. At some point, Viggo took you into his arms and his fingers started drawing lazy circles on your skin. You must’ve dozed off because the next thing you remember was Viggo, waking you and saying you had to get ready for work.

It took both of you some time to realize what it was that had started that one warm Wednesday evening, or even that afternoon a few days before when Viggo kissed you for the very first time. You both found out eventually, found out that it was more than kissing and sucking and hot sex. You discovered you shared more than mutual lusting after the other’s smell and taste and once you’d established that, a whole new world opened up in front of you. Suddenly, there was someone who was willing to share everything with you, someone you knew was just there for you. It not only made the long, lonely evenings far from home a lot better to endure, it also added a quality to your life that you had never known existed.

Nowadays, strolling around in Cannes, talking to Jackie and posing with Andie, you think a lot about how Viggo and you got together. You think about the wonderful time you spent in New Zealand, about the memories you share, things and people and places that will always connect you with each other. And you’re wondering if it’ll ever be like that again, you wonder how your life will change now that principal filming is over. You know it has been over for some months now, but you’ve been too busy catching up with things and people to really notice. And now you’re all back together in Cannes, and somehow it’s like you’ve never been without each other at all. You hope that it’ll always be like this. You hope that you and Viggo will forever be like this, so much in love that nothing else counts. You’re sure you can do it.

When you see Viggo later this same day, see him giving an interview, you don’t even think twice. You know he’s trying to be serious and all that, but you’re here, you both are here, and you’ll be damned if you let any chance for the two of you to spend time together pass. You sneak up on him and start a mock fight. You know he’s a bit taken aback at first, but he falls back into his old self, too. You tease each other, you call him names and finally, you just hug and kiss him. It’s nothing major, just a little peck on the corner of his lips, and you don’t think anyone would give a fuck. You know you don’t, you know Viggo doesn’t. And you both laugh, like you always do, like you know you always will.

You’re young, you’re vibrant, you’re in Cannes and Viggo is with you. You’re excited and bouncy. Life is good.


	2. TTT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reflections about loss, regret and recovery in New York and Los Angeles

_December 5th 2002, New York, USA_

You’re irritated.

You inhale and the smoke fills your lungs – strong and unhealthy – but yet so good. You think the nicotine helps you to relax a bit; at least that’s what you tell yourself. It has to. You stopped smoking some time ago, but there are still moments when the longing for a cigarette is too intense to resist. Besides, nobody cares anyway. Okay, so maybe your PR agent wouldn’t like it (you belong to one of the big agencies now, looks as if you’re on the right track) but she’s not here right now, and there aren’t any journalists, either. For a precious few moments, you’re all on your own. You slipped out a backdoor of the Ziegfeld Theater and now you’re standing here, in this dark alley, shivering in the cold, having a smoke and trying to bring some order in the thoughts whirling around in your head.

Inside, the usual premiere buzz has filled the space. It’s still okay. You’re still enjoying it in general, but today you’d rather be someplace else. Because today, everything that happened months ago comes back to you in full force and there’s so much you just don’t want to think about, you just don’t want to talk about, you just want to forget about. But people won’t let you and you can’t even blame them. And you have to admit to yourself, as you’re hugging yourself in your coat to shut the cold out, maybe it’s time to face certain realities.

You can’t exactly pinpoint when things with Viggo started to take the wrong turn. Looking back on it now, you don’t even recall the reasons for your split; were there any, any valid ones? All you remember is the fallout and how you dealt with it – which wasn’t dealing with it at all. You simply ignored the fact that your first real relationship, the one you thought would last forever and conquer every problem in its way, was over. Maybe there had been one or two nights you spent on a far too soft hotel mattress, crying like a baby because you longed for something you never wanted look back at. You couldn’t recall, because you erased these few occasions from your memory. 

You know you’ve been a pathetic shit all these last months for not even allowing yourself to think about Viggo and the how or the why. You were too busy, isn’t that right? Castings, scripts, interviews, tight movie schedules, parties, awards… there was always something going on and you didn’t really have any time to think. And if somebody wanted to talk about you and Viggo and why you weren’t an item anymore, somebody in the small circle of people who knew about you and Viggo in the first place, you flatly refused. You said there was nothing to talk about. And there wasn’t, really. 

But tonight it’s different. There are too many familiar faces and shared memories surrounding you. You know you can’t pretend anymore. Viggo is everywhere: you see his face, you hear his voice, you can almost feel his touch, and it doesn’t really matter that he isn’t physically attending this premiere tonight. He’s everywhere as far as you’re concerned. And then somebody, Dom, Karl, you don’t even remember who, asks you if you knew why Viggo wasn’t attending, and you just can’t stand it anymore. So you excuse yourself and flee for a few minutes. And the moment you step outside to sort your thoughts, reminiscence hits you like a jackhammer. 

You and Viggo had begun to drift apart long before your split. It was a slow yet continuous development. First of all, there was the physical distance. You’d been around each other practically each and every day in New Zealand. Once you were back home and the regular life had kicked in again, you suddenly recognized that Viggo wasn’t just a short walk away anymore. You were intimidated by this at first, but hey, you were a young, aspiring actor. You could certainly deal with that, couldn’t you? Distraction is the best remedy against lovesickness, somebody told you, so you started distracting yourself as much as possible.

To lessen the pain, you didn’t call Viggo as often as you used to – it would’ve only made things harder, right? And as time went on, when you did call him, you noticed how the tone of your conversations began to shift. You didn’t coo endless love declarations anymore. You were a grown man, weren’t you? At least that’s what the girls were signalling you, the girls that somehow seemed to be everywhere you went these days, making offers that made you blush at first and feel smug later. They practically threw themselves at you, but you never partook of any more than some harmless party snogging. Pussy had just lost all attraction to you and somehow, you were too chicken shit to accept one of the rare but much more attractive offers from your male fans. Besides, you still were in a relationship at that point and you intended to maintain your fidelity. But this whole couple thing seemed so outdated suddenly. That had worked in New Zealand – in what had been another time, another place, another world. But this was the here and now, and girls were sending you their bras, guys were winking with impossibly long lashes, and somehow, you weren’t sure about being committed to somebody else already.

You and Viggo met and talked about it and wow, you were so mature, both of you. Viggo knew where you were coming from – hell, he’d had his own share of enjoying his youth. So there was no tearful, ugly separation that you might have been afraid of at another time. Instead, there were two grown ups, talking about how separated from reality New Zealand had been. How surreal, compared to everyday life in the outside world.

Neither of you used significant words like ‘split’ or ‘break up’, but you both knew what you were talking about. You and Viggo knew that once you parted that day, you weren’t going to be lovers anymore. Ex-colleagues, yes, friends, hopefully, fuck buddies, not very likely, but lovers – no. You, Orlando Bloom – the young aspiring actor who still had so much in his life to discover – you were single again.

You were ready to enjoy your new found freedom, but somehow, it didn’t really work. You tried pussy again, just to make sure, but it made you run for the hills. Cock wasn’t much better, either. It was just sucking or fucking, and it satisfied you for some hours, but it never gave you the kick you’d become used to. As usual, you stopped yourself from thinking about why you didn’t enjoy sex anymore. You were young, you were a man, you had to enjoy it and if you didn’t, it was because your temporary partners sucked ass in a bad way, and not because you were missing someone special. No, no, not at all.

When almost finished your cigarette, you catch sight of your reflection in a window. It’s not that you hate what you see. It’s just that you realize you’re the last person on earth without flaws. You realize you denied yourself joy because you thought you weren’t happy enough. But what are you now? Wiser maybe, but certainly not any more happy.

Once you step back inside, you stretch your neck to see if maybe Viggo has arrived in the meantime. He hasn’t, and is that tingle in your stomach a sign of disappointment? 

You thought you were ready to deal with it, but right now, you’re irritated that you feel this way. Life is weird. 

 

***************

_December 15th 2002, Los Angeles, USA_

You’re nervous.

You’re pretty sure that nobody in the mass of bodies pressing against the barriers in an effort to catch a glimpse of you or get your autograph notices, but you’re nervous as hell. You’re in LA. It’s another premiere and once again, the place in the limelight is yours. But that’s not the reason for your nervousness. Nor is it because you’re supposed to meet some girl tonight, to start a relationship for everybody but you. You couldn’t care less. The only thing you think about, the one thing that makes you smile and grin and bounce even more than usual is that you’re about to see Viggo. 

You spent a great deal of time during these last ten days of solitude. You’ve done a lot of thinking – you opened your eyes and, more important, you opened your heart. You know now that the use of your acting skills has gone beyond the professional level, and you are employing them in your private life, playing a role that you thought you had to. You finally came to the conclusion that first and foremost, you have to be honest with yourself, and once you began doing so the longing for Viggo and what you once shared became almost unbearable. You spent a whole day in reflection, feeling miserable. Once you stopped crying and rational thinking regained the upper hand, you realized that if there was any possibility, if there was even the slightest chance for you and Viggo to make things work again, you had to find out who you were first. Because it wasn’t only time and place that had changed since you left New Zealand. 

You finally came to the conclusion that you have changed, too, you aren’t that young, overexcited, naïve puppy anymore. You’ve learned a lot during the last few months, you’ve learned about media and PR and being out there as a young actor, a role model, and a fantasy. You have no real idea about what a relationship with Viggo would look like right now. All you know is that it certainly won’t be anything like the romantic, fluffy, heart shaped dream you once had. Reality has gotten you by now. You know it’d involve a lot of effort to make it work this time. You know it would demand patience, understanding, trust and maturity, but isn’t that what you told yourself over and over again over lasting recent months? That you’re so mature now? Looks as if your final test is approaching fast.

You spent so much time thinking about yourself and Viggo, you didn’t even consider the possibility that Viggo might not be interested in you and what the two of you could have again anymore. You decided that thinking about this outcome would be too much at this time. You decided for yourself that that’s something you could deal with later, if it came down to it.

Instead you did something else after some days of reflecting and pondering: you called Viggo. You lifted the receiver, dialled his number and held your breath when he finally picked up. And then you talked, and it was good.

It was awkward at first. You never really talked again after your ‘break-up-conversation’, and hearing Viggo’s voice again after all these months made you close your eyes and swallow a sigh. 

Though you’re quite sure Viggo was surprised that you suddenly reached out to him, he never showed it. You started chatting as if nothing had happened. It was a polite conversation between two men: what have you done, how have you been, what are your plans? You asked about Henry, and Viggo asked about your back. Yes fine, everything’s okay. You talked for maybe an hour or so and once you hung up, you noticed you never asked all the questions you had wanted to ask.

So you called him again the next day. This time, you almost thought Viggo was expecting your call. There was that brief period of awkwardness again, although it was shorter than the one the day before. You asked Viggo if he’d be attending the premiere in L.A., somehow, you hadn’t dared to ask him the first time, or you had simply forgotten it, and he hadn’t mentioned it, either. He told you that yes, he’d be there, and when you said you were looking forward seeing him and he said he was looking forward to seeing you, too, you were smiling like you hadn’t in weeks.

The day before the premiere, it was Viggo who called you, and that’s when you started feeling nervous. But in a good way. And this time, you went further: when Viggo asked you how you felt, you told him that you weren’t sure. You admitted you felt alone and insecure sometimes, but you never told him that maybe it was because you lost someone you loved along the way. You hoped that Viggo would know what you were referring to. You weren’t ready to say it yet, and besides, you didn’t want to scare or push Viggo. You had already taken your time to reflect on things, and you knew he’d need some time to think, too. 

That’s why you never openly discussed what was still there between you during these three phone calls. You talked about your own feelings, you slowly began to open up to each other again, but you avoided any topic that somehow linked the two of you together. Even so, you were sure that Viggo knew the real reason why you were calling him. He knew, of course, that you were trying to get familiar with him again, that you were trying to see if the new Orlando and the old Viggo had a chance together. He knew that you had finally grown up and were ready to face the future, with him. He knew you wanted to win him back. And the fact that he’d called you back before the premiere told you all you needed to know.

And while you’re walking down the red carpet, shaking hands, smiling and posing, you suddenly think back to one special evening in New Zealand, the evening you and Viggo had sex for the very first time. It was three days after the first night you’d spent together, it was essentially your second date, and once again, Viggo had come over to your place. You remember that you were as nervous then as you are now, almost shaking because you simply couldn’t decide whether what was ahead would freak you out in a good or scary way.

Back in New Zealand, it was Viggo’s voice that finally calmed you down, the voice that always got you. He never said anything about it, but you know he must’ve sensed your nervousness. But he took it all away by simply being him, by taking you slow and carefully, by taking your hand and guiding you all the way. 

Undressing in front of Viggo wasn’t weird, it never had been before, besides, you’d already seen him naked and erect a few nights before. Seeing him place a condom and some lube onto the table nearby made you tense for a moment – was that Viggo’s way of asking for your approval? You noticed the lube was blueberry flavoured and made a lame joke about it. Viggo chuckled, took you in his arms and kissed you, and suddenly you felt safe again.

You have never told Viggo, and you’re not sure you ever will, but you really wondered how on earth his erect cock was supposed to fit inside your ass. You had wondered whether you maybe wouldn’t have sex that night – because you couldn’t be stretched enough or whatever. Thinking back on how naïve and silly you were back then makes you smile nowadays. Viggo prepared you slowly and playfully, without making a joke of the whole scene. Maybe that was the moment you fell in love with him: Viggo, two fingers buried inside your ass, nuzzling your neck and telling you that he was fucking scared you might tell him you were allergic to blueberries.

You laughed then and relaxed sufficiently so that he could push his finger far enough to hit that one spot inside, and that’s when things changed for the better. You moaned and turned your head frenetically because you had to kiss Viggo right then. You kissed him so hard he panted when you withdrew, his eyes wide with surprise and joy, and you wanted to tell him so much in that moment, but you couldn’t. Instead, you contracted muscles inside your body you never knew you had any power over and Viggo’s eyes grew even wider. He lowered his head and whispered your name against your ear, hot and wet, and you knew that in the whisper was another hidden question, an asking for your approval, and you simply nodded. 

Then, when Viggo entered you for the very first time, you searched his eyes for any sign of uncertainty, because you couldn’t believe what was happening around you. You couldn’t believe that he’d chosen you, that you’d chosen him and that everything was so easy all of a sudden. You didn’t feel any pain during your first time with him. You were so very lucky: Viggo was slow and gentle and caring. It was a wonderful time, so good that you even did it a second time the same night. The second time was different, Viggo fucked you then, and my, when you came, you screamed so loud you blushed afterwards. And Viggo just laughed again. Because that’s how it was between you back then: easy and fun.

You finally make your way down the carpet and enter the building. You shake some more hands, smile your sunniest smile and pose for more pictures. 

And then, all of a sudden, you feel the urge to turn around. You know that when you do, you will be staring into a pair of sparkling blue eyes. And you smell him, his unique Viggo smell. You turn around, and you don’t say anything. You don’t have to. You just give in and you finally touch him again: your foreheads touch, but it’s not enough. You have to touch his head, his face, you have to feel him more, closer, stronger. And he just smiles and lets it happen, he lets you rediscover him, he lets you reclaim him, and just like back when you were back in New Zealand, you can’t believe your luck. Now, like then, it is all because of Viggo.

You don’t know how things will work out from here on, and you’re still nervous. But Viggo is back in your life and just like that, life is good again.


	3. RotK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reflections about love, life and the future in Wellington and Los Angeles

_December 1st 2003, Wellington, New Zealand_

You’re overwhelmed. 

You’ve seen and experienced so much in the last few years, things you never thought would happen to you, Orlando Bloom, but they did. You and Johnny landed a box office hit, you’ve been on location with Brad fucking Pitt and you even worked with Eric again. But this, the reception in Wellington, tops everything you’ve ever dreamed about.

You can’t believe you’re back in New Zealand yet again. And not only that, everyone else is here, too. Sure, you spent time with some of the others during re-shoots earlier this year – but this is a whole lot different. It’s just like it was four years ago, when you arrived here for the very first time, young and naïve Orlando, with an endlessly babbling Scot by your side. You almost feel as if you’ve done some time travelling, and as scary as the thought may be, it makes your stomach tingle in a good way.

So much has changed since you first stepped onto New Zealand ground, yet some things are still the same. You remember the warmth and kindness people always welcomed you with, and that friendliness is still there, although it has multiplied a thousand times. You sit in the open car and there are people everywhere – screaming your name, declaring their undying love for you. You know this scenario, it wasn’t much different at the Pirates premiere, but this is New Zealand, this is Rings, this is still special. You turn and smile at Liv, who’s sitting next to you; you can see she feels and enjoys it, too. So you don’t say anything, you just wink at her, and she nods knowingly. You’re right: it is still special.

Love is the word of the day, it seems. Everybody loves everyone and everything. You know you are loved in so many different ways, your fans love you for your looks and charm; hopefully some do love you for your skills, too. Your colleagues love you in some kind of brotherly way, and you’re proud to say you’ve got two families. And then there’s Viggo, the one fixed point in your life, the one constant love. You don’t twist your head like crazy to see the car he’s in – you might have done that in Cannes two and a half years ago. But you’re not the same person anymore, Viggo isn’t, and your relationship isn’t the same, either. 

It was love back then and it is love now, but it’s different. You remember the first time you fell in love with Viggo, or rather, the first time you told him so, because you’re not sure you ever fell out of love with him, not even during your break. 

You and Viggo became very close very fast when you got together for the first time. Life was vibrant and exciting, your worries about an on set relationship, and a homosexual one, no less, were proven unnecessary when everyone welcomed the development. The people on set were friendly, understanding, and supportive. It was all so easy, maybe even too easy. Viggo was always there for you and there was never a reason to doubt or fear anything, so you just concentrated on the good things on life, and oh my, there were so many.

Two months into your relationship, you topped Viggo for the first time. It wasn’t something you’d talked about before, it just kinda happened. You’d dreamt about it, sure, you’d been wondering what it would be like to be the one in charge for a change, to be the one giving pleasure. And then, this one night, you were lying in bed next to Viggo, making out with him, when he suddenly said something that under different circumstances would’ve sounded like something from a corny movie, so cheesy that if it wasn’t him who said it you would have made fun of it with your mates afterwards. But this _was_ Viggo saying it, Viggo with his incredibly sexy and husky pre-sex voice, and corny was the last adjective you’d use to describe what he said and how it made you feel. Viggo asked you to make love to him, and it took you several moments to process the question. ‘Love?’, you asked back and Viggo gave you a look, a ‘what else’-look, as if you’d never done anything else, screw the wild fucking, forget the hard thrusting, never mind all the hot jerk-offs and suck-offs and everything else you’d done together. The truth was that Viggo hadn’t just penetrated your arse or mouth but also your mind, with each and every single fuck. There never had been another man before Viggo, there had never even been the thought of it; Viggo had changed your whole sexuality with just one kiss, or rather, he made it surface for the very first time, made your true self show. And also, Viggo made you feel love for the very first time.

Because it was true, you had been making love all the time, and once you realized it, you felt so happy and joyful that every fear or insecurity about topping flew out the window. You suddenly felt strong and confident – you were loved, dammit – you felt as if nothing could go wrong. So you did what you’d watched Viggo do so many times before, you reached for the lube, squeezed some into your hands and began preparing him. 

Moving your fingers in another man’s arse was new and exciting. His passage was tight and hot, and the thought that you would momentarily be sliding your cock inside Viggo, to lose yourself inside of him, made you leak precome all over the mattress. You pushed your fingers in and out, slowly at first, because you weren’t sure if Viggo had ever done this before, although you suspected that he had. He’d tell you some time later, tell you about his wild years at college, but you never knew back then. What you knew, however, was that your finger fucking made Viggo squirm and pant, and you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of him, your friend and mentor, losing his restraint under your careful movements. You became even more aroused by this sight, and you feared that you might come far too early.

Thankfully, Viggo soon signalled that he was stretched enough. When you rolled the condom down your cock, there was this split second of nervousness again. Viggo sensed it, too – you could never hide anything from him – and he made it all better by telling you how much he wanted this, how long he’d been waiting for this, how he wanted you to hurry up and fuck him already. You laughed softly and with that your confidence came back. When you threw Viggo’s legs over your shoulders and placed your cock close to his entrance, you both just smiled at each other.

You pushed in and nobody could’ve prepared you for what happened next. You remembered the first time Viggo had been inside you, you remembered how careful he’d been, and you could only imagine how tight you’d been back then. But this… you felt almost drawn inside, you felt Viggo’s muscles clamping down around you, sucking you in. You started cursing like you’d never done before, and you had to stop once you were fully sheathed inside; it was almost too much. Some moments later you came back to your senses and realized that Viggo was panting as heavy as you, so you started moving again, slowly at first. But Viggo lowered his legs and crossed them behind your own arse, adding pressure and forcing you to go even deeper, and holy fuck, that’s when something snapped inside you. You started thrusting, you simply started fucking; it was as if you’d never done anything else in your life but butt-fuck like a pro. 

Viggo joined you in your cursing tirade and the two of you rocked on for much longer than you’d have thought possible. You filled the room with your mixed screams and scents, and the last thought that crossed your mind before you felt your orgasm approaching was that you had never believed in the ‘some things are meant to be’ stuff until just then. And that’s when you had to squeeze your eyes shut because you came so hard and fast, and all the strength went out of your body afterwards and you simply collapsed on top of Viggo. 

You don’t remember how long you laid there for. Maybe forever. And before you could see or speak or think again you noticed that you felt wet and sticky, and then the panic set in when you realized that you’d been so busy with yourself that you hadn’t taken care to make sure Viggo got off. You slowly raised your head to look at him, and he was smirking. He told you that you’d done a good job for a first try, although you’d been a bit too selfish for his taste. You blushed all shades of red and felt like a complete idiot, but Viggo chuckled some more and told you that everything was fine; he told you how he’d gotten off by simply staring at you, by watching you fuck him for the very first time. Listening to Viggo talk dirty made you horny all over again, and you eventually had to roll off of him and discard the condom before you got hard once more.

You improved your topping skill quickly, and you never again forgot to take care of Viggo while fucking him. Becoming versatile in your relationship wasn’t the only change that happened that night. You had a lover now: you loved and were loved, and you weren’t afraid to say so.

When Viggo and you started again the second time, after the LA premiere last year, your relationship was different. You’d learned that there was more to love than good sex and smiling and making jokes to ease the nervousness. You knew that pain and sacrifices belonged to love too; they were the aspect of love that wasn’t shown on Hallmark cards. You talked with Viggo about it; you did a lot of talking now, the two of you. It wasn’t as if you’d never talked back In New Zealand – but these new conversations were of a different nature, they were deeper, more significant. And when you told Viggo you loved him the second time around, told him you still loved him and were ready to live with the consequences, it wasn’t just some fluffy declaration of some romantic sentiment. It was much more than that: it was a promise, a statement, a decision that would change not only your own future, but his as well. It was your way of saying that you were ready to have a relationship that might be anything other than easy. And you knew that by saying it, you would have to be ready to play a game that would bring you pain and stress. You said it, and Viggo nodded slowly and kissed you the same way that he had done the first time you said those words. And when he told you he still loved you, you knew you could and would make it. 

That’s why you don’t have to watch out for Viggo every second. You know he’s close, you know he’s there for you. You don’t need to sit next to him and hold his hand to be sure about all this anymore. And so you lean back and enjoy this other kind of love, the one that comes as a huge surprise although you’d hoped for it to be still there. You lean back and enjoy the love all these strangers lavish upon you. You’re overwhelmed. You know life isn’t always easy, but at least for now, it’s damn good.

 

******

_December 3rd 2003, Los Angeles, USA_

You’re confident. 

Sometimes you amaze yourself with how confident you really are. You’re standing next to Viggo, so close you can smell him. He just kissed you in front of everyone and you kissed him back, but the way you kissed each other could be interpreted as harmless pecks good buddies would exchange. At least that’s what you tell yourself. And although Robert Shaye from New Line is looking at the two of you and flashes the broadest grin ever, you know how fake his smile really is. But you won’t allow yourself to care, not tonight.

You know that this will be the last night for a long time that you’ll have the chance to be seen in public with Viggo, be close to him without having to hide or provide justification for touching him in front of other people. You’re still careful, though. You don’t jump him or do anything stupid; you don’t attack him and call him a pet name like you did back in Cannes when life was still easy and you were still reckless. But you stay close to him and touch him as much as possible under the given circumstances. And it’s a mutual thing, ‘cause Viggo doesn’t give a fuck, either. Not tonight. 

This will be your last Rings premiere ever – you know that much already. You had wanted to go to more premieres, you’d have loved to spend more time with the cast and Viggo, above all. Your tight movie schedule is forcing you to leave the travelling circus after LA, and as much as you would like to go to Berlin, London and Copenhagen, you know that you have to be back on set. 

But there are more reasons why you won’t go to the other premieres. One of them is the little incident that involved you, Viggo and a pair of panties with the C-word on it, given to you by some fan. Viggo and you almost lost it momentarily, then. All the memories attached to the Cuntebago came back to your mind: you saw Viggo decorating a Christmas tree with tampons, you almost felt the hangover you had after drinking one bottle of wine too many, and you recalled the numerous times you had fucked in the trailer and the one time you’d forgotten to lock the door and Sean had walked in on you. Viggo must’ve remembered the same things, you could see it in his eyes. He hugged you and suddenly, it was as if the two of you were alone on the stage, as if all the hundreds and thousands of people had simply vanished. You’d have given anything to kiss Viggo in that short precious moment, but you couldn’t, you weren’t that far gone and then reality got a hold of you once more. However, this short moment was long enough for certain people and you knew that because of this moment, and countless others, Kate had to rearrange her schedule for the next few weeks.

You don’t allow yourself to think too much about the game you’re playing for the public. You’ve learned how painful the truth can be, you learned that acting and playing a role isn’t limited to the big screen, at least not in Hollywood. You’d change things in your life if you had the power to do so, but you don’t, at least not yet. That day will come, but for now, all you can do is work, smile and not talk about your private life, or other’s conclusions about it, at all. 

And so tonight, that is what you do: smile and laugh and talk about your work. And touch Viggo, because for once you can get away with it. 

Tomorrow, you’ll be off some place else. You’ll leave your one love – Viggo – for your other one, your work. Because for you, the work is more than just an opportunity to make fast money. It offers you an escape from this madness, a time in which you can lose yourself in another person's life, at least for a little while. And you know that through it, you can make other people happy, too – all the people who go to see your films in the cinema can lose themselves in another person, time or place, and you are happy that you can help them to escape the troubles of their own lives during those few hours spent in the darkness of a movie theatre.

You have no idea when you’ll see Viggo next time. But you’re not scared about it, because you know that there will be a next time. You’ve come so far, the two of you, and you know you’ll go on. You know it will be harder than usual, after all this, after Wellington and LA. But you also know you’ll make it happen, with Viggo’s help. 

Tonight, when all this is over, you and Viggo will spend the night together, as you have done the previous two nights. And you’re grateful for this chance – three nights in a row has become a rare luxury these days. You will make love, once, twice, and then you will fuck, so hard and fast that you’ll still feel it days later. You’ll sleep safe and sound in his arms afterwards and you’ll awake the next morning to the sensation of his stubbly chin scratching the delicate skin of your stomach. You’ll part eventually, but not without saying goodbye the proper way. And soon enough, you’ll be on your own again, but you won’t be sad that you had to leave Viggo. You will be happy because you’re already looking forward to seeing him again – sometime, someplace in this insane world you’re living in.

You’re confident and it’s not only a sentiment, because you know. You know you and Viggo will make it, you’ve grown so strong that you take the bumps in the road without thinking twice. You’re confident. Life has been fine lately and you know it still will be from here on out.


End file.
